Time on Taris
by ShelbyJoyce
Summary: F!Trooper: LT Jackson Silverwheel and Sergeant Aric Jorgan take an evening off from trudging through Taris while hunting down Republic traitor, Needles with the help of Sergeant Elara Dorne. Storyline spoilers.
1. Corellian Whiskey

Lieutenant Jackson walked in to the cantina covered in grime, sweat, and blood from a long day at work on Taris. The planet was proving to be a real burden. The young lieutenant and her one-man squad had received a tip as to the whereabouts of Havoc Squad deserter, Needles. The cybernetic medic had seriously unnerved her on Ord Mantel. It was the implants—the scars didn't bother her, they were normal in her line of work—but when men replaced perfectly good body parts with non-organics it just didn't seem right. It just seemed to take away part of your humanity. After giving up the chance to bring in Wraith, Lieutenant Jackson was eager to bring in Needles. In all honesty, she was severely disappointed Wraith had slipped through the cracks; she was her least favorite Havoc member. When she decided to put her blaster barrel to the lieutenant's head, she'd signed her own death warrant.

The sun was already setting when they reemerged from the Imperial stronghold and the Rakghouls were starting to come out in larger, more aggressive hunting parties. Lieutenant Jackson had made the decision to call it a night.

Aric was reluctant to turn in for the evening, his burn from the 'brass still stung and he was ready to bring the defectors to justice. He had agreed, however, because the Lieutenant was weary from the Rhakghoul infection she'd taken earlier in the day, subjecting herself to a disease for the benefit of others. She wouldn't admit outright how exhausted she was, but he didn't argue when she made the call to head in for the night.

Lieutenant Jackson glanced over the soldiers in the cantina briefly from the doorway before heading straight for the bar. She slid onto a barstool, hooking her boots around the legs. Jorgan stepped into the space beside her, leaning with his elbow on the counter so he could face her.

"Lieutenant?" He asked, glancing around the cantina, then back at her, "What's the plan?"

"Get us rooms; we'll stay here for the night. And consider yourself off the clock for the rest of the evening, Sergeant." She gave him a tired smile, nodding to the bartender to bring them some drinks.

"Planning on drinking, sir?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Don't worry, Sergeant, I'll let you buy the next round." She smirked. Jorgan couldn't help but smile the slightest bit.

She passed him his drink, a strong Corellian whiskey before downing hers, coughing slightly at the burn. He drank his down without a hitch and chuckled slightly.

"What?" she frowned, wiping her lips.

"Nothing, sir." He straightened out his expression.

"Sergeant!" She pursed her lips.

"Off the clock, sir. See you soon." He nodded, leaving her to go and see about rooms.

Lieutenant Jackson rolled her eyes, ordering another drink, taking her time with it, the strong amber liquid warming her weary body.


	2. Classified

A young solider approached her, sliding onto the bar stool beside her, smiling sheepishly. "What's a lady officer like you doing on a sewage heap like Taris?" He asked, looking her over.

"That's classified." She glanced over at him. He was cute, not handsome but he was still young and would hopefully grow into those gangly shoulders of his. She picked up her drink again, waiting for his reaction.

"Classified? Oh, I didn't realize, I was only trying to make small talk." He blushed, looking down. He looked back up sheepishly, noticing her patch. His eyes widened, "Is that-is that a Havoc patch?" He asked in awe.

She turned back to him from her whiskey, smirking slightly, "Yes."

"Oh wow! Havoc Squad, huh? You must be new; I don't recognize you from the holorecordings! I'm Karim, by the way!"

"Lieutenant Jackson Silverwheel, nice to meet you kid." She nodded.

"Lieutenant? But aren't you kind of…young? But Tavus—"

"Is on a leave of absence."

"But Lieutenant, sir, if you're a lieutenant, doesn't that mean you're in charge of Havoc Squad if Captain Tavus is gone?"

"Yes."

He scrunched up his face, thinking the situation over. It made sense, Tavus was getting older, and maybe he'd gone into early retirement. Or he was on a secret mission. He shook his head, he'd be better off if he didn't question the brass. He took a drink of his whiskey, shrugging his thin shoulders, "Well, congratulations, Lieutenant!" He smiled.

"Thank you, Karim." She finished off her drink, "So what brings you to Taris?"

He shrugged, "I'm quick, sir. Guess they figure if I can outrun a pack of Rakghouls it doesn't rightly matter if I'm any good at shooting them." He answered sheepishly.

She smiled back, "Better to be quick with a blaster, though, isn't it?"

He smiled, "They hardly trust me with a blaster, sir. Put a hole through my CO's dress uniform in the locker room."

She laughed, the liquor warming her body. Lieutenant Jackson sighed softly, covering her mouth with her fingertips to stifle a yawn. "Well, maybe we can see about getting you some target practice in, Karim."

"Oh really? Wow, that'd be great!" He grinned, standing up. He offered out his hand and she took it, giving him a friendly shake. She smiled, nodding, "I'll see you around." She stood up, swaying slightly. Jackson steadied herself against the bar. Karim frowned slightly, "LT? You need a hand?"

She shook her head, "Just stood up too fast is all." She brushed it off, licking her lips.

Karim's brow furrowed, "Let me walk you to your room, Lieutenant. I insist." He put a hand under her elbow to steady her. She reluctantly nodded, letting him lead her carefully away from the bar, unsure of where her lodgings were.

Karim led her around the back hallway, supporting her weight against his side. The further she walked the heavier her body felt. She did her best to keep her weight off him but the whiskey had been strong—the kind one drinks to drive away the nightmares you live during the day and to keep the ones that come at night at bay.


	3. Lightweight

Karim looked around, noticing a large Cathar walking down the steps. He wasn't wearing armor but Karim could tell he recognized the lieutenant. Jorgan frowned, walking straight up to them.

"What happened? Is she alright?" He demanded coolly.

"Y-yes sir." He nodded, "Just a little too much to drink, sir."

"And you're toting her around like a rag doll because?"

"Trying to find her rom, sir. Are you in Havoc Squad too, sir?"

"Sergeant Aric Jorgan. Second-in-command, I'll be taking the Lieutenant now."

Karim nodded and Jorgan stepped forward, scooping an arm under her shoulders, "Come on, sir, let's get you upstairs." He murmured, nodding a dismissal to Karim.

She turned in towards him, blinking slowly, her eyes feeling heavy. Lieutenant Jackson put her hand on Jorgan's chest, steadying herself as best she could.

He sighed, "You won't be able to make it up the stairs, will you?" He mused. "I'll have to carry you up, alright Lieutenant?" She shook her head and he wasn't entirely sure which questions she was opposed to, but it didn't matter.

Jorgan bent down slightly, over enough to hook his arm under her knees, picking her up. He was surprised at her weight: even with all her armor still on she wasn't a burden at all. She rested her head against his chest, closing her eyes. He stiffened slightly, feeling the warmth of her cheek through his shirt. He shook his head slightly, carrying her up the two flights of stairs without hesitation, setting her down only when he came to the door, propping her up against the wall so he could unlock the room. Jorgan led her inside carefully, helping her to sit down on the edge of the bed.

She smiled sleepily up at him, her eyes heavy. He gave her a nod, kneeling at her feet. He began to unbuckle her boots, unlatching them so she could at least sleep comfortably. He was sliding her first boot off when he felt thin fingers brush past his ear, fingering the soft, tawny fur near his temple. He glanced up at her, her eyes were closed but her lips were curled up at the corners. Her fingers slid up his ear, running gently over the point. He stilled, watching her movements, aware of every touch. She quieted, her hand brushing his throat as it slipped away back to her side. He frowned, pulling off her other boot. He stood up, carrying her boots over to the front of the wardrobe, lining them up alongside it neatly.

Jackson laid back on the bed, her eyes closed as she sighed. "I'm sorry." She mumbled.

Jorgan turned around to look at her, cocking up an eyebrow. "Sir?"

"I drank too much. I'm a lightweight..." She sighed, lifting her arms to put the backs of her forearms over her eyes.

He smirked slightly, shaking his head. Jorgan walked over to her, unbuckling the latches of her armor along her side, "Move your arms." He commanded, helping slide the heavy chest piece over her head, leaving her the thick undershirt she wore beneath her armor, similar to his own. Jorgan unbuckled the armor from her hips and thighs next, having to wiggle it off due to her unhelpfulness.

Jorgan carefully sat her back up, sliding in behind her so he could support her with his shoulder, "Let's get these gloves off." He murmured, helping her to tug them off, along with her bracers. He slid back out, letting her lay back down as he gathered up her armor, neatly putting it away in the wardrobe. He could do her this service, helping her into bed and out of her armor, but in the morning she would have to clean it and he would make sure she did.

The lieutenant somehow seemed much smaller than she did a moment ago when he was finagling her stubborn armor off. He shook his head, sliding an arm under hers so he could tug her up further onto the bed, helping her to get situated. Jorgan pulled a blanket out from the dresser and draped it over her. "Good night, LT."

She curled up her lips, "G'night Jorgan…" She whispered, rolling onto her side.

He sighed, walking through the shared bathroom into his room, practically falling into bed.


	4. Act Casual

Lieutenant Jackson woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, scrunching up her face as she tried to process her surroundings. She was extremely dehydrated and had to steady herself as she got out of bed. She looked around, noticing her armor was neatly hung up in the wardrobe, boots stacked up straight beside it. She looked down at herself, realizing she was only in her underclothes. She shrugged it off, standing up carefully as she walked into the bathroom. She hardly noticed the steam fogging up the mirror as she bent down to grab a cup from under the sink, turning on the faucet to fill up the glass.

Jorgan froze in the 'fresher, waiting to see if she would just leave. He rewrapped the towel around his hips, making sure it was secure before he slid open the door, staring at her back. "Uh, s'excuse me, Lieutenant." He mumbled. Her head shot up, turning around to look at him. "Sergeant! I didn't see you were in the 'fresher! I'm so sorry, I uh… I'm sorry, I'll come back later." She blushed.

He gave her an apologetic smile to match his nervous laugh, "Well uh, LT, if I'd have been a Sep I'd have shot you by now!" he teased awkwardly.

She raised her eyebrow, "Right. Absolutely, have to pay attention to my surroundings. Uh, carry on, Sergeant." She nodded, waiting for him to leave so she could use the refresher.

"Yes sir." He nodded, squeezing past her and out into his room, eyes wide.

She pushed the door shut behind him, giggling slightly at the awkwardness of the situation. She shook her head, peeling off her underclothes, wincing a little as she pried some of the fabric off patches of dried blood, reopening the scabbed up wounds. She stripped down and stepped into the refresher, turning on the warm water. She stood there, letting the water wash off a layer of grime and blood from her body, finally raising her arms to work shampoo through her short hair. Everything eventually swished down the drain, leaving her to tend to cleaner wounds. She stepped out of the 'fresher, wrapping a towel around herself as she went back into her room, pulling on her undergarments. She dug through her bag, digging out a few kolto packs, breaking them open and rubbing them in her hands to warm them up before she applied them to her flesh, cringing a little as she felt the kolto patching her up. She sighed, wiping off her hands on a towel before she got dressed in clean underclothes, slowly pulling on her armor for the day.


	5. One Down

A/N: This chapter is heavy with storyline dialogue, please bear with me.

Imperial guards patrolled the entrance to the massive sewer pipe, and Lieutenant Jackson waited under cover for the right opportunity to leap into action, Jorgan at her heel. She gave him a curt nod and the pair began blasting their way through the Imperial forces, one at a time, until they made it into the lofty interior. She glanced around, making her way inside with Jorgan, picking off Imperial troops as they emerged.

Finally they made it up and around the top of the stairs at the very back of the space, her eyes widened slightly as Needles infected Ensign Sarven with a mutated strain of the Rhakghoul plague.

When she rounded the corner she stared down the most hideous Rhakghoul she'd witnessed so far.

"I smell an intruder." Vorzoth hissed.

_Surely_, she thought, _he must smell us, as big as that nose is._

Needles merely grinned, "So you do. Sergeant, is that really you?"

She curled her lip, "I've moved up in the world since you last saw me."

"So I see. You've slaughtered enough Republic enemies to be rewarded then. Well done. I see you aren't alone! You brought that pathetic worm all the way from Ord Mantel; just to die along with you."

Jorgan crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Talk all you want, Dorant. You're not getting out of here alive."

"Your timing is impeccable, just as I find myself with plenty of pathogen but no more test subjects, you arrive! The transformation will hurt at first, but that's merely your organs rupturing and realigning. It's all over quickly, I assure you."

"It's nice of you to offer, but I think I'll pass."

"Struggle if you must, then. But you'll wish you hadn't made it so hard on yourself." He glanced at the Rhakghoul, "Vorzoth, please assist me in subduing our latest volunteer."

"With pleasure." It hissed, turning its massive skull towards them.

"Nice knowing you, Needles." She spat, pulling out her blaster.

"Take them!" Vorzoth hissed, leaping at them.

Blasters fired, grenades were tossed and within a few minutes the Lieutenant and Jorgan had destroyed the Rakghouls and eliminated Needles. Jorgan walked over to the control panel in front of the serum tanks.

"Hmm. Looks like more samples of Needle's weaponized Rhakghoul disease. What should we do with it?"

She scratched the back of her neck, "What do you think?" She asked, looking the tanks over.

"I think Garza would want a sample of it for the analysts to examine."

She nodded, "Let's take a sample and destroy the rest."

"Yes sir." He did as she asked, bringing along a sample for safe keeping.

She glanced over her shoulder as she walked up to the railing, getting a good long look at Needle's body. "One down." She sighed, turning and leaping off the balcony to land crouched on her feet at the bottom level. She straightened up, walking out of the compound and back to HQ.


	6. Newest Addition

Lieutenant Jackson had boarded her ship with a brand new addition to Havoc Squad, Sergeant Elara Dorne by the time they had left Taris in their tracks. The medic had thanked her for bringing her onto to Havoc Squad and promptly set up camp in the med bay—according to Republic military standards, of course—and went to work on reorganizing the medicine cabinets for more efficient access.

Jackson rounded the corner into the too-small armory, peeking in at her Sergeant. _Her_ sergeant? No, that wouldn't do. They were colleagues. She brushed the thought off as she walked over to him, busy at work stripping down his blaster pistol. She pushed herself up onto the edge of the table, resting her hands in her lap.

He lifted his head, cocking an eyebrow at her, "Lieutenant?"

"Sergeant." She nodded, dangling her legs idly as she studied his work.

"Something I can help you with, sir?"

She shrugged, "I'm sure you could. But that's not why I'm here."

His hands stilled, listening to her.

"What do you think about Sergeant Dorne?"

"She appears to be an exemplary officer. Her field work is littered in commendations and she has two medals of valor. She defected three years ago but Republic command seems to trust her." He answered, almost monotone, unsure of her reasons.

"Hm." She nodded, pressing her lips together.

"Sir?" He raised an eyebrow, "Is there anything else?"

She shook her head, getting off the table. "Oh! Before I forget, I picked you up something. Thought it might be useful." She rounded the corner briefly, walking back in with a padded weapon case. She set it on the table.

He smiled, "Thank you, Lieutenant, that's very thoughtful."

She smiled back at him, "Use it in good health, Jorgan."

"Yes sir."

Jackson walked back out into the main deck, setting course for Nar Shadaa.


End file.
